


Fragile Present

by Cynara



Category: Stargate SG-1, The Sentinel
Genre: Clones, Death, F/M, Families of Choice, Future Fic, M/M, Pie, Second Chances, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:36:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynara/pseuds/Cynara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon is in college and he gets a surprise roommate. Life happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Present

**Author's Note:**

> This is set post Heroes II, and that is mentioned. It spins off Fragile Balance.

Jon trudged up the stairs, wondering what had possessed him to take an apartment on the fifth floor of a building without an elevator. So, there was an elevator, but it was locked by the building super except when someone was moving in or out. Mrs. Knochle on third had a key, but she’d lived in the building since the 50s, though sometimes he thought it was since her 50s.

The building was close to campus but didn’t attract the party kids. A staircase like this wouldn’t have stopped him in his day, but kids today were wimps. Instead, Mrs. Knochle and a few other long-term residents were rounded out by an assortment of grad students, future grad students, and one emancipated freshman who in deference to same was allowed not to live in the dorms.

For that he was grateful. High school the second time around had been its own hell, given that he was, had been, older than many of his classmates’ parents. Young girls were much more, more than his first time around when he could have enjoyed it. Coming back to a dorm room with a sock on the doorknob would have been more than he could take.

He veered from thinking of Daniel, even two years later it hurt to have lost him after just having gotten him back. He put his key into the lock of his door. Jon had wasted his last night as Jack eating Chinese take out and leftover pizza alone, thinking they had time for Daniel to regain his memories. Despite every lesson to the contrary; Kelowna being just the most recent. He hoped Jack, the one that lucked out in the reality sweepstakes, didn’t miss the wake-up call.

He stepped into his apartment, setting his backpack next to the low shelf by the door. He put his keys in the bowl. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he listened, trying to figure out what was wrong. He moved further into the apartment, wishing, not for the first time he had a gun. He still had a number of years before him as a strapling.

There were few places to hide in the living room, and he checked them quickly. Kitchen, the pantry. Checked the bathroom, and his line of duckies in front of the lightwell window. He turned to his bedroom.

Somebody’s sleeping in my bed. Jon was stunned, so he just watched the shoulder rise and fall for probably a minute. He checked the closet, and determined that the area was secure, except for sleeping beauty. It was an imponderable, which annoyed Jon as he chased it round and around.

He struck off ‘practical joke by detail’. They didn’t have a sense of humor. The young man, because that shoulder was definitely male, was sleeping too peacefully for someone in the wrong bed. Jon revised. For someone that knew he was sleeping in the wrong bed.

Too bad it is the wrong bed. Jon owned up to his attraction. Three years two timing his right with his left had burned away any pretense that Daniel was the only man he found appealing. He was simply the only human being Jon, and Jack for that matter, was willing to risk everything for, to be that exposed. That didn’t keep Sleeping Beauty from being a temptation. Longish hair.

Jon got a grip. He didn’t know where this kid had come from. First, he was a kid. Second, he could be anyone, a hustler, a junkie, anyone. Jon wondered about his detail again. He knew they had become more and more perfunctory. Had they not noticed this, or had they planned it?

Sleeping Beauty rolled over onto his back, arms going over his head. Jon’s jeans became uncomfortable. It wasn’t the only tightening, as Jon was reminded about the impossible way Daniel had of sleeping when he was alone. Just like that, oblivious that he looked like a model, like someone posing. Sleeping Beauty looked a bit like Daniel, like a young Daniel.

Jon yelped. Sleeping Beauty blinked, waking. Jon looked intensely into the man’s face, recognizing features here and there. Then Jon was being looked back at, and he plunged into Daniel’s eyes.

“Jack?” Daniel sat up, realizing he was naked as the blanket slipped and his butt slid over the sheets. The young man at the end of the bed had to be a teenager, but there was something about his stance. And, it being Jack made more sense than anything else. He looked around the room, not recognizing it.

The confused expression sealed it for Jon. Only Daniel looked like that, as if he could adapt to anything once he understood, and could understand anything if he looked at it enough. It was disconcerting when focused on you.

“Close enough.” Jon was glad he was wearing a long shirt. He got his thoughts in order. “Loki!” He reconsidered. “Thor, pull up a seat, reminisce.” The idea of his grey friend with a beer was amusing. Daniel was looking at him like a puzzle, and Jon sat on the bed, so he could turn his back without being unsociable. Clearly Daniel didn’t remember.

“What’s happening?” Daniel looked around the room. First of all, he could see. That was strange. Jack was, young. Really young. Now that Jack had turned around, Daniel pulled the covers up since there wasn’t a mirror, and he didn’t feel quite right besides the seeing thing. “Jack?”

“I don’t know. Me, Loki, another Asgard, xeroxed without inspector number 9 approving the result.” Jon turned around, catching Daniel dropping the blanket. “You naked under there?” Daniel’s blush told Jon he was and Jon wanted to pin Daniel to the bed. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Daniel considered the question. “Shar’e’s dead. It’s been a few months.”

Jon swallowed and stood up. Nothing to hide now, his erection drained from horror. “That’s the last thing?” Jon wished he could pull the words back. “Let me get you some clothes.” He busied himself finding tshirt, boxers and sweats, tossing them onto the bed and headed out into the living room. Nothing there was distracting enough so he drifted into the kitchen.

“What year is it?”

Jon turned to Daniel, clone Daniel. His tshirt hugged Daniel’s chest, reminding him that even as a geek pulled by a mastage he hadn’t been a ninety pound weakling. He was younger than that. “So, this is you as a kid?” Jon would have to get Daniel some clothes, his stuff for all that he liked it loose was a second skin on Daniel. Jon wanted to be the only thing that close. He stuffed the idea in a dark box. Long legs, this young Daniel was more than ever legs and brains that both went to infinity. And beyond. “Good news, Kinsey isn’t vice president any more. Bad news, he was. VP. Not sure just what happened.” Its timing with the loss of a number of ships and bizarre lights reported was evocative. “2005.”

“How young did you start out?!” Daniel tried to figure out how old Jack was, this body of Jack’s, but it was hard to work back from the graying battle weary man that went on five at the drop of a dime. Six years ago would surely have made him a kid even on Abydos.

“To hear my mother, two.” Jon smiled at the moue of confusion. He loved stopping Daniel in his tracks, watching the limber mental switching that played over his face. This Daniel wasn’t as guarded as he’d become, as Jack, the Goul’d and everything else reshaped him into something harder, sharper. Not stronger, despite the extra weight he could heft. It all played over him, like it had at the beginning. “How old would you say you are?”

Daniel stepped closer to the steel toaster. He looked at his reflection. “Um, college?”

“That’s supposed to be helpful?”

“Eighteen.” The answer seemed to satisfy Jack, and he knew any older and he wouldn’t be believed. Hell, Jack had called him a kid, meaning it, when he was thirty. “Jack, you didn’t answer my question.”

“About that, I go by Jon now.” All he needed was to forget himself and he’d have Daniel against a wall. Not without a fight, since for as sweet as he looked, this was Daniel post-Jack and Teal’c bootcamp. Just without the weightlifting. Not exactly required given his own reduced circumstances. “It’s only been two years.”

“Loki, that’s the Norse trickster god, who blinded Odin.”

“Same little grey butt as Thor, but very ends and means. Called this science.”

Daniel shook his head, losing six years, well sixteen he supposed, but it had been 1999 to him until just now. “What happened in 2003? Why aren’t we at the SGC?” Daniel went to the drawn curtains and took a look outside. “Ja--Jon?” There was just brickwall. Not a window facing a brickwall, just, brickwall. The same brick wall as to either side of the curtain

“This apartment had some damage in the 70s, and fixing the plaster wasn’t worth it. I like it.” Okay, he knew that wasn’t the question, but he wasn’t going to admit he didn’t like having but one window. Too much like the Mountain. So, he’d put up curtain rods and pretended. “It was too awkward having two O’Neills.”

“You couldn’t get along.” Daniel drifted around the apartment, looking at what Jack, Jon, what Jon had surrounded himself with. Sports equipment, bobbleheads, dvds. Coffeetable books of planes. He picked up a clay pot, black, the design in gloss and matte. “This is really nice.” He set it back down. It was a strange thing for Jahon to have.

“Thanks.” Jon hadn’t missed how Daniel’s fingers had caressed the pot he’d thrown. Pianist’s fingers. He snorted about Handel and organs. It hit him that while this Daniel didn’t remember them, not the sweaty two-backed them, he also didn’t know the bad behavior Jack had demonstrated before pulling his head out of his ass. Could he be so fortunate twice, to win Daniel’s love again?

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Neil.” Jon got up from where he had been reading and went over to his friend. His very young friend. He had a gift for knowing when someone was hiding something and all his bells were going off. He stood on Neil’s left, watching him pivot to 3/4 profile right.

 

Neil swallowed as Jon lifted his hair. He was very aware of the intake of air Jon made, and Neil looked him in the eye. “First paycheck.”

“Any tattoos?” Jon stomped down the thought he should look. He looked back at the ear and its three rings. “Where’d you get them done?” None of them were in the lobe; not that they’d have all fit. Front shell, cuff, cup.

“Bernie’s.”

Jon nodded, Neil had at least picked the right place. “This the lot?”

“Yes, mom.”

Jon tried to look affronted. He gave up when Neil smiled. “Guess I need more gravitas.”

Neil raised his eyebrow. Jon dropped his hair. “I wanted to remember them.” Shar’e, his parents, and his old life.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daniel, Neil, looked over at Jon. He still hadn’t settled into his new name, and wasn’t real good at answering to it. After he’d woken up in Jon’s bed, and there had been some of the usual--okay the years at SGC had ruined his sense of usual, post-clone and run meet and greet, Jon had left to buy him clothes, made them sneak out of the apartment, and then saunter back in. That had been two months ago.

Five weeks ago, after Daniel mentioned missing having a library card, Jon had come back with a sack with a bow stapled to it. Inside was a Minnesotan birth certificate and a wallet containing a South Dakota driver’s license and a social security card. Neil Hansen. He could only imagine how that had happened. Better than getting stuck with Johnson which he knew must have crossed Jon’s mind.

After the gift, he’d started job hunting. There wasn’t a lot that he knew how to do that he’d be able to convince an employer he was qualified to do. Somehow that hadn’t stopped him, as when he stopped at the wrong office to drop off a resume, he’d lucked into a translating situation, a heated discussion that was just a misunderstanding. As Jack had so often pointed out, he couldn’t resist stepping in.

So, now he drew concept pictures for an architectural firm, and served as in house translator. When asked why his resume mentioned neither ability, he’d honestly stated listing drawing hadn’t occured to him. Jon hadn’t been entirely happy when he’d told him.

Jon however was deep in an engineering text. Da-Neil had quirked his eyebrow, wondering what had happened to Jack’s bushelling. He’d been amused when Jon couldn’t get the scientific calculator to work properly he’d pulled a slide rule out. He wondered if Jack had had one hidden somewhere, because Jon was too fast at it by half. Where had Jon found a slide rule?

Actually, most of Jack’s dumb camo had gone, and Neil considered it a welcome improvement. Jon still dropped Simpsons’ references like confetti, and futzed with any number of geegaws, yo-yos and rubber balls. In short, he got his geek on. The smile that original thought had brought to his face had been hard to explain to Jon. Neil knew he’d misinterpreted his answer of ‘Abydos’.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil let Jon give the instructions for getting the eight foot netted Christmas tree up the stairs, before clearing his throat. “How about we use the elevator?” He stopped Jon by holding out the key by its fob.

“How’d ya--” Jon knew Mrs Knochle had lent it to Neil. “Go on!” They marched to the rear entrance and waited for the car, which was naturally at the third floor. Jon slid the grated door open and jumped in, adjusting the position of the car’s floor. They worked the tree in on the diagonal. “You measured.” It was snug, but it fit. Now he knew why Neil had ‘pestered’ for this tree. Jon closed the door and ran the elevator to the fifth floor.

Jack looked at the tree stand in the center of the room. There were cars with less metal in them.

“Mrs. Knochle insisted I borrow it from Mr. Edwards.”

Jon pondered that one. Mr. Edwards was younger than Mrs Knochle but not by so much as you’d notice. He didn’t have an elevator key, but did his major shopping to coincide with hers.

“Something about the risk of tipping.”

“No danger there.” The reservoir took at least six gallons, and the body was cast iron. Lifting and leveling the tree went smoothly and soon they were decorating.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon’s mouth gaped, now that Neil had pulled back. He struggled not to shift about and draw attention to his groin. “Neil?” Okay, it had been dumb doing that, he still heard Sister Anthony, her “O’” so soft as to be nearly non-existent, every time he said it. “Johnson” would have been cruel, and considering that was about all he could think of anyway...

“You kissed back.” He had thought he’d read the signs correctly, but he liked the confirmation of any unusual hypothesis. Shar’e had forgiven him, even before he knew, for loving the snarky Airforce Colonel. Had she lured them to that planet, put into motion Teal’c killing her rather than continue as Amaunet’s hostage? He’d never know. Having been forgiven, he couldn’t hide behind her memory. Jon was his future.

Jon didn’t have an answer, though it wasn’t a question. So, he played to strength and kissed Neil, leaned into it. Maybe he wanted to scare him, maybe Jon was afraid he would scare him and rather’d know now than later. Instead they were rutting together and he was completely too close to coming in his pants.

Neil started to argue when Jon pulled away, until he saw him pull down his zipper and push his briefs down. He breathed, forcing control over his hands to do similarly. Jon launched back at him and they were skin to skin belly and dicks. They came.

“Sleep with me?” Jon wasn’t satisfied with the grope and grunt, and prone would be a positive change. He took the absence of objection as consent and went into the bathroom herding Neil. Quick washcloth over the both of them and then they were tumbling into his bed, shirts flying. This time there was a lot of rolling, mostly Jon trying to stay under Neil, liking the weight. So much better than soloing. It didn’t last much longer this time, but there was less mess too. He wondered if he could broach fellatio, if it would be less disturbing the first time without much come. Jon decided against, wanting more than their current ‘best’.

The third time Jon straddled Neil’s hips, grinding against him and telling him keep his back on the bed. He gasped when Neil arched, lifting his pelvis and Jon. He tumbled to his back as he came.

“Gave at the office.” Jon looked up at Neil, then down at the finger tracing his chest.

“When” Neil tried getting his voice back down an octave. “the hair?” He slid his palm over the absent thatch of chest hair.

Jon tried figuring if it was distaste or interest he heard. “Years.” He thought he heard the word ‘patience’ He slipped again into sleep.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Familiarity didn’t breed contempt, but it did grant some endurance. Neil found Jon-baiting during their PT very rewarding; trust Jon to have gotten references from Janet for “developmentally appropriate training”. He arched as Jon tongued his nipple, careful not to let Jon flip him on top. It was a game between them, and right now he wanted Jon to stay on top. Jon knew him better than Neil knew himself. Knew which patches to lick and nip.

“...” Neil looked down, closing his eyes so he didn’t come from seeing Jon sucking his dick. He stroked Jon’s shoulders before moving his hands to the bed. He tried not to thrust. Jon held him, took him to the edge and pulled him back.

Jon sucked Neil in all the way. Eyes closed he could forget Kelwona, the Asgard, everything. This was the cock he knew, every vein and extra sensitive spot. This was his life back. He loved it, worried it, finally pitied it and Neil and finished his lover. He grinned when he got his warning squeak and hung on tighter as he swallowed.

Neil was still muzzy as Jon rode his hip and came. He stroked Jon’s spiky hair, kissing the side of his lover’s head. Jon was nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sprawled across him diagonally. “Jon.”

Jon looked up, to be surprise-kissed. He watched Neil’s face. “So?” Jon was flipped onto his back. He traced Neil’s spine with his fingers, wrapping his legs around his fleshblanket. Jon chuckled as he felt the soft snoring. He bussed Neil on the side of the head before joining him in his nap.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Neil?” Jon shut the door and swung off his backpack, before heading to the beanbag chairs by the tv. It was unusual for Neil to be home quite so early.

“I got offered a job.”

Jon was confused since he’d not heard about anything wrong at the architects.

“They want me to start the program in the fall.”

Jon thought for a terrible moment the SGC had figured out who his roommate was, but-- “They want you to become an architect?” He reached over to Neil who was nodding yes. “That’s great!” Jon wondered what was wrong. “Isn’t it?”

“I miss them. Sam, Teal’c, my department, Janet-- It makes it real, not some weird vacation.”

Jon slid behind Neil circling him in his arms. He exhaled when Neil leaned back. There wasn’t anything to say to that. He’d had every reason to leave. Jack. Daniel. “Have you changed your mind?” Neil they’d welcome with filled inboxes.

Neil rubbed Jon’s arms that had tightened. “No.” Jon’s reasons for keeping him a secret were good. Especially now they were lovers. He turned his head to look at Jon. Every day he looked a bit more like Jack. He wondered where the tipping point would be. “How different do I look to you?”

Jon wondered just what leap Neil had made. It was safest to answer from the first trip to Abydos. He’d not volunteered that he’d still been Jack up to 2003. He wasn’t eager to be fourteen years older than Neil. “Younger. Clearly I was wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“If you’d looked 20 then...” He would never had survived that mission. General West wouldn’t have been convinced, and he would have fought a lot harder. They’d have been completely out of their element, unable to communicate, the team dead and Ra in control. “Not that different, though.” Not like he’d changed at the SGC. Dying would do that.

“Do you want to be an architect?” He watched as Neil considered the question. A smile started to form.

“I want to build the future.”

Jon grinned like a loon, holding Neil tight. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil took Jon to the bed by surprise. Things had been hectic for awhile between Jon’s midterms, providing Neil’s fictious parents with not nearly so ficticious death certificates-- It was hard work being a false person.

“This the thanks I get” Jon’s umbrage was cut off by a pleased preverbal vocalization. Strongly believing in unwrapping presents, Jon unbuttoned Neil’s jeans. Arching, rolling and writhing got them both naked. “Miss me?” He resumed kissing Neil’s neck.

“Oh yeah.” He kneaded Jon’s ass, rocking them together. He moaned as Jon splayed one hand over his cheek.

“Want to?” Jon did, either way. The tube of slick he’d put in the back of the bedside drawer after he and Neil got together hadn’t been touched since. He caressed Neil’s face, to get his attention as worked from Jon’s chest to stomach. “Wanna?”

“What? He still liked verbs, often required them. Jon normally obliged, often speaking only in verbs. Adverbs. “69? If you say hang curtains, so help me--” He got snarky when distracted.

“Screw.” Jon grimaced that that was the best he could come up with. He smiled as confusion blossomed over Neil’s features. It didn’t last.

“You mean--”

“I’ll bottom.” He didn’t want to lose any momentum and anything Neil would have said definitely would be a dampener. The thought of Neil giving it to him made him wriggle in anticipation.

“Jon?”

He pushed up on his elbows, dick swaying. It knew not to give up, that distraction to devotion could be instantanous. Not this time, but Jon was motivated. “Yeah. You’ll like it, tight and hot, squeezing.”

Neil watched Jon undulate with his words. “You--me--”

“You plant the flag.” Jon spread his legs. “Explorer, explore.” When Neil didn’t move, Jon reached to the nightstand and keeping eyelock with Neil dug out the tube and tossed it.

Neil caught the tube, then looked at it. He looked back up at Jon. He’d done this before.

“Not in this body.” Relief replaced concern changing to questioning. “Not during your time.” Eventually he’d have to come clean. Right now he had to come. “I need you.” He watched Neil swallow and square his shoulders. Jon was so getting it.

Neil couldn’t get his mind around it. Jack had... Jon wanted... He was going to... Contrary to, well not popular, but certain notions about ‘greek love’, penetration wasn’t part of it. Shtupping was saved for the staff, whose comfort wasn’t a priority if even a consideration.

Or was he. Jon thought he should have at least gone to half-mast out of respect for the fa-

“You’ll have to tell me how.”

Jon gripped his boys, to settle them down. “I’ll tell you.” He looked around; since this was no longer in the heat, he could think a bit more to comfort. Jon got up, grabbed his form wedge and sprawled back into bed, canting his hips on the wedge.

Neil swallowed, contemplating Jack doing that. Combustion. Fusion.

“Come up here.” Jon smiled as Neil stretched over him, pulling him down for a long and nasty kiss. He flipped open the tube and squirted a pile onto his stomach. Cold. He let Neil pull back for air, grabbing his hand to suck Neil’s middle finger into his mouth.

“Jon.” His finger was released but not his wrist. Jon scooped up some of the gel and coated Neil’s finger.

“Now stick that where the sun don’t shine. Slowly.”

Neil looked at his finger, his lover and then Jon’s hole. He reached out to the pucker, touching it with the slick finger, circling before pushing gradually in.

“Pull it most of the way out and slide it back in.” Jon shifted around until he could see Neil’s finger moving into him. He leaned back a bit more on his elbows. “Keep going.” Jon fell onto his back, eyes snapping shut. Oh baby had Neil found it.

Neil was surprised at Jon’s reaction, then he decided he liked it. He gentled the flicks and moved his hand around in circles. He leaned down, slipping his mouth over just Jon’s tip.

Jon opened his eyes. He wouldn’t survive this. He swiped at the now warm slick and lubed up Neil’s index finger, before gripping Neil’s cock. “Get on-”

Neil pulled his finger out most of the way, just the tip hooked inside, then added his index. He pushed in and went down in tandem. He parted his fingers, sucking and pulling up, as he scissored inside Jon. He was knelt tight and wanted Jon, resisted fucking into the hand on him.

Jon pushed at Neil’s chest. “Time.” He chuckled when Neil looked up losing his mouthful. “Kiss me.” Liked that order. Jon squeezed when Neil got too caught up in his tonsils, then pushed him back with his other hand. “Pull out your fingers.”

Neil pulled his hand free of Jon’s ass. He felt his cock released, eyes on Jon lifting back onto his arms. He was sprawled, determined and hot, cock jutting to three.

“Line it up and press home.”

Neil had himself in hand and head in Jon before thought. Tight. Too tight.

Jon bore down, watching Neil feed into him. “Pump. Yesss. Keep going. In out.” His head lolled back as viewing lost to feeling.

Still tight. Hot, slick, tight, just right. He put everything into Jon, willed amnesia on him, never Jack, knew only him; Jon was his, only his. Neil found Jon’s prostate, sieging and avoiding it by turns. Possessed Jon, possessive and possessed.

Jon wanted Neil’s mouth, his hand, everything, was shattering and not fast enough. Hand, lips, found him. Took, consumed, reformed him. He felt heat and slipped away.

Neil pushed up slightly on his hands, just lifting his weight. Jon was out. He’d take that as a compliment. A nap seemed a good plan. He settled back down, nuzzling into the crook of Jon’s neck.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We were facing your first time.” Neil got out of their bed.

“This body.” Jon knew never to grant ground to an opponent, and right now, for Neil’s own good, they were. Trust things to be difficult.

Neil spun around. It was irrational to be jealous of something, someone, that had happened before he’d even known Jack. But now wasn’t a good time to be reminded.

Jon took a step back. Neil had filled out even with the light training. He was an invitation to sin, which Neil knew. Jon wasn’t accepting any arguments or inducements, and he’d just have to remind himself that.

“Why are you so sure I don’t have a past?”

The bluff might have worked if Jon didn’t know both Daniel’s past and future. “Because I read your security file.” He had, shortly after they’d come back from Abydos and Jack had gone from threat of court marshal for treason to 2IC. Catherine might have been persuasive, but Uncle Sam knew Daniel thoroughly before he ever saw the Gate.

Neil turned away deflated. He shrugged when Jon stroked his shoulder, but didn’t resist when Jon wrapped his arms around him. He shimmied against Jon’s dick.

Man would try a saint. “Want it this way? Could go back to bed, to the lube, get this in you.” How had things spun so quickly out of control?

“Charming.” Neil’s withering tone clearly said no. He shrugged out of Jon’s hold and lay back down.

“Freshen your drink and go riding?” Jon looked at Neil jerk at the offer. He grabbed the lube.

“Before you shove that finger anywhere, I’m the one that’s going to get fucked.”

“Stomach or side?” Neil didn’t roll, just kept on his back. “Suit yourself.” He started to reach behind himself.

Neil held Jon’s wrist. “You weren’t listening.”

Jon was afraid. Not of Neil hitting him, or breaking something, and not because he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Daniel had fought him, shot at him. He’d leave. Jon could see it in his eyes. Neil would leave him. “Guess I better wash my hands.” He turned for the bathroom, Neil dropping his arm.

“Don’t--” Neil wondered how this had spun out of control. “Make love to me.”

“Always.” Jon still went to the bathroom. He turned on the tap, staring at his reflection as he washed his hands. Neil was going to make him grey.

Neil blinked as the toliet flushed and the faucet ran again.

“Water--” Jon stopped windmilling his hands. “Permission to approach?”

“Good thing you didn’t say ‘come aboard’.” Neil jerked his head in assent.

“Wrong branch.” He started smiling.

“No bosun’s whistles.” Neil chuckled despite himself as Jon combined spit-take and disappointment. “Come on, take a load off.”

“Clerk’s bell?” Jon sat down.

Neil wasn’t taking the bait. “I mean it.”

“Can we still suck? Kiss? You know how to kiss, you just put your lips together and...”

Neil shook his head, trying not to laugh. Finally, out of self-preservation he kissed Jon. He reined Jon in, keeping it gentle. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” He started to sit up. Neil reached for him. “Somebody’s going to have to sleep in your bed. Guess it’s me.”

“Jon.”

“Hardly been used.

“Does somebody have to sleep in my bed alone?” He went to brush his teeth during the production number. Jon was still pondering when Neil returned.

“Guess not. Get the light.” Jon slipped under the covers, holding them up for Neil. He was relieved when Neil got in.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil missed screwing. Jon could be so stubborn. So could he. Eventually Jon would relent. He reminded himself of this when Jon dropped things and picked them up. He wasn’t giving in, Jon would have to deliver first. Face to face.

Jon knew something had to give and it wasn’t him. He, as Jack, had never been able to do as much as he’d wanted to keep Daniel safe. Jaffa didn’t recognize ‘civilian’, though it was a blurry concept when firing a P-90. Jon slipped behind Neil wrapping him in a bear hug.

Neil leaned back, breath hitching as Jon rolled his hips. He closed his eyes, seeking his determination. Jon placed his hand under Neil’s chin and jaw. Neil looked in the direction Jon guided him to, the mirror. He could only see a sliver of Jon’s face behind his own. “How did you get the scar on your eyebrow?” Nothing like looking at something that’s not there to bring it to your attention.

“Hockey puck.” Jon rubbed his eyebrow absently, while he nipped at Neil’s ear. Which led to pushing Neil’s earrings back and forth with his lips, sliding the banana bar up and down.

“Jon.” He’d not gone through the past days just to give in now.

Jon glanced up and into the mirror, looking Neil’s reflection in the eye. “I will make love to you with you on your back so often you’ll get sick of me. But not your first time. Pretty much any way other than that. Like this, in front of the mirror? On the bed though.”

Neil shook no.

Jon noticed it was only when he’d mentioned the bed that Neil tensed. “Not on all fours. Doesn’t have to be like that. Knees. Can stay on them for hours.” He ran his hands up Neil’s ribs, up and down his chest thinking of him shirtless. He stopped moving, hands, hips, when Neil grabbed his butt, rolled his own sweet ass. Jon didn’t breathe. Say yes. Please say yes.

“If you’ll face me first, while you stretch me.”

Jon spun Niel and kissed him hard, nearly climbed into his skin. He started stripping them, touching, stroking, teasing as he got them naked. He got out the lube one handed during a liplock. “Up on the bed. Kneel. Kneeling.” He smiled as Neil realized it had been a verb. 

You’re beautiful. It wasn’t the thing to say, but Neil was. Jon joined him on the bed, chest to chest, stroking up and down Neil’s back, up and down Neil’s thighs before opening the lube and slicking his fingers. He placed them below his lover’s hole. He traced up after his fingers had warmed, circling and dipping, circling and dipping. He pulled out, moved his arm, changed the angle. One finger pressed in, homing on the nub.

“Jon!” Neil gripped himself roughly to knock himself back from the edge. He did the same to Jon for good measure. He smiled filthily at Jon’s umbrage. That earned him nasty kissing to go with the fingerfuck. “Jon--” Bastard had pulled out and was moving away. Jon was moving behind him. 

“Gets better.” Jon lubed up, using the cold shock to get under control. He wiped off his hands. Beautiful. Neil looked over his shoulder. Exquisite. Lean back tapering from broad shouders to slim waist. He cupped Neil’s nape, kneeing closer, moving his hands down, down. Jon gripped Neil’s hips and closed, cockhead finding its target.

Neil pushed back, groaning at the fullness, clamping his hands onto Jon’s ass to hold him, to pull him forward. He stretched his neck back.

Jon suckled Neil’s tempting neck, moving his hands up Neil’s belly and chest, wrapping one arm over that sculpted chest, his other hand around his lover’s cock to stroke in time. Feast. “Going to make up for lost time. Right?” Wanted Neil right now.

Neil released Jon’s ass, trusting it now in motion to stay in motion. So good, he didn’t have words. He reached to capture Jon by the neck, turning to look over his shoulder. He moaned into the kiss.

Jon pulled back breathless. He guided Neil’s right arm up, cupping the hand around his head. 

“Like?” Jon was kneading his chest and sucking the base of his neck at each shoulder. Neil looked into the mirror, finding Jon’s eyes. Neil was coming.

Jon held Neil up as he nailed his prostate repeatedly, wringing his lover’s orgasm out, coaxing it to the last drop. Soon his own came and he couldn’t stop their tipping backward. He looked down Neil’s body covering his. “Beautiful.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Fall 2006

Jon looked around their apartment, knowing that only Neil could have made this happen. Mrs. Knochle of course had been a co-conspirator, which was why they, Mr. Edwards, Lisa and Leroy from the first floor and Monica from down the hall were gathered around the pingpong table for Thanksgiving dinner. Naturally right now it didn’t look like a pingpong table, between the colorful tablecloth Lisa had brought up, Mrs. Knochle’s serving platters, and the cornucopia centerpiece Daniel had helped Mr. Edwards get down. And the food!

Everyone had contributed, between ovens and stoves, groceries and skill. This had involved a rather peculiar game of musical apartments, as sidedishes and baked goods (oh, what a joy of pie there was!) cosied up wherever the right oven temperature was to be found. There were two birds, three different kinds of dressing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, roasted potatoes, latkes, cranberry relish, cranberry mold, greenbean casserole, baked beans, gravy with and without giblets, curried cauliflower, deviled eggs, corn bread, rolls, to be followed by pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie and a flan-like desert Neil had loosely adapted from the Abydonian original.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summer 2007

Neil looked over at Jon who was much more into the baseball game than he was. Here the cheering made more sense than on the couch. He turned back to the game, still ‘seeing’ Jon. He must have been the youngest looking 2nd lt; no wonder those pictures had never come out in the Springs. At least now he had a strong resemblance to Jack, not just expressions and gestures, but facially. Daniel had settled in at about fourteen, getting taller but not changing much in the face. In that way Jack had been right the first trip, but only because at twenty he could pass for thirty. His thirty.

They had to be careful in public. That didn’t mean they couldn’t touch. Actually, that would draw attention, considering how tactile Jack and Jon both were. The detail would know that much, or at least their superiors would. Over time watching Jon had been downgraded, when it became less likely aliens, Asgard or others, might show up.

He elbowed Jon. Somebody lower in the stands had an oversized Roswell grey hand to cheer with. It got a chuckle out of Jon. Neil smiled, taking the sight of Jon’s dimples to his happy place.

Being careful just meant not doing any of the little things he’d never thought of when he’d been with Sarah, but she’d suddenly do. Indicating Jon had mustard on his face, instead of wiping it away with his thumb and dropping a quick kiss. Not grasping his hand to hold. Things that struck him all the time with Jon.

And that was why a few days before his birthday, his real birthday not the one they’d play up, he was sitting next to Jon at a baseball game with fireworks to follow. He could handle delayed gratification.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spring 2008

Jon looked at Neil and back at the box. “You’ve got it so bad.”

“I’m hoping for getting it good.” Neil was spun and kissed deep. Jon pulled away. “Yeah, like that.”

“Just a sample.” Jon started pulling the model kits out, looking them over and setting them to the side. “Wow.” He looked at Neil. “You really researched this.” It always amazed him when that genius mind put itself to work on his behalf. “Guess I should give you your Valentine’s present.” He pulled Neil close, dropping kisses on neck, brow, ears. He worried the rings in Neil’s left ear as he moved them closer to the bedroom.

“Going to be something for me to unwrap?”

“Sure.” Jon spread his arms wide, laughing as Neil tore at his clothes. He’d spring the chocolate covered coffeebeans on Neil afterwards. Jon tumbled them into bed.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Winter 2009

Jack looked to the side, over the stones in the distance, snow sticking at the bases where shadows kept it from melting. Mr. Edwards had collapsed in the hall a week ago. Stroke. He’d waked up, been lucid. Family showed up at the hospital. Two days ago he’d died.

Neil was over with the other pallbearers; the family had found themselves short and Neil was of a size to the rest. His suit was much like the one he’d worn when needed at the SGC, complete with charcoal grey shirt. So many funerals. Jon stood with Mrs. Knochle. Here and there other women, matriarchs, sat in chairs. Mrs. Knochle would have none of that for herself. Jon might regain feeling in his arm tomorrow.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

May 2010

“You must really like robes.” Jon looked down Neil in his cap and gown. “Too bad I can see your pant cuffs.”

“But am I wearing anything else?” Neil headed off for final processional instructions with that bon mot.

Jon cinched his tie just a bit tighter. They’d both graduated the year before, something that had been a bit of a surprise to him. The architecture program was five years, and Neil started after him. Testing out of many of his distribution requirements had helped. Now he was getting another masters. Jon went to find his seat.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon looked at the letter in utter disbelief. He looked up at the last moment when Neil approached.

“Did something happen?” He figured Jon would be told if either Jack or Daniel died. It was all too possible given SG-1’s history. His expression was that bad, that ashen.

“I’m being recalled to active duty.” He’d been demoted, not that he’d expect any different. Lieutenant O’Neill. It wasn’t like he was old enough to make a believable Captain, given time in grade regulations.

“Cheyenne?”

“It doesn’t say.” It was his first thought, but making assumptions where the military was concerned didn’t pan out often. He looked at Neil. He was going to need answers, and he knew one man that could get them. But first...

Neil watched Jon go over to the bookshelf and fuss with a polyresin set of the three monkeys. At least, he’d thought it was polyresin.

“Thor.” It’d been a gift. “I’m going to have to say this fast, if they have been listening that will make them wonder if it lasts too long. You wanted to know about my past=” He paused. “experience. Daniel.”

Neil tilted his head, wondering if what Jon had to say had made him slip. Then... “You said it happened before my time!”

“I said not during your time. I was cloned in 2003, from Jack in 2003. I don’t know how Thor or whoever” his bets were on Thor, “cloned you from 1999. Coldstorage?” That clone Daniel, Neil, had been eighteen spoke to Thor not working alone. He knew Jack, because he wasn’t, wasn’t that magnanimous. Daniel!

“So we’d, they’d, you and he, me...” Neil tried to regroup. “When?”

“After I’d put him through more kinds of hell than I want to admit. And then he died.”

Neil looked at Jon. He was a replacement, his original was dead?

“He came back though. You were pretty good about that, but it took a year that time, and then Loki wandered in..” He’d kick Jack’s ass if he’d left Daniel in the dark after all that was settled. He figured he could now. To a draw.

Daniel had done this, asked Thor or whoever to do this. Neil was certain of that. Neil looked for and found a chair. “How much longer?” He pointed at the monkeys.

“None.” Jon turned it off, aware his world might have ended. Dropping this on Neil and then silencing him was horrible

Either there was another, less effective anti-bug device or the detail possibly getting earfulls of ‘nope, not just roommates’ sex wasn’t a problem. Being cloned probably would constitute ‘shattering life event’. As long as they didn’t know who he had been. There were so many questions he had. He got up and kissed Jon, holding the back of his head, not letting him go until actual oxygen deprivation was an issue.

Jack rested his face on Neil’s shoulder. His world was still spinning. After regrouping, he looked up. “Ever been to Texas?” He smiled as Neil caught on.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hammond grinned as he saw the young man at his door, complete with aviators. “Come on in, Jon. Before you ask, no, I didn’t know. I have done some checking though. You’re going to be flying with the Snakeskinners, they’ve got some Ancient technology not everyone can work, even with the ATA therapy.”

“So, Peterson.”

Hammond sighed. “Not at first. They’re going to ease you over into SGC, have you at the salt flats testing planes before assigning you to the Snakeskinners. They’re based at the Alpha site.”

Jon stood, heading over to the french doors. Hammond looked at Jon wondering what the problem was. Then he saw outside a man stand, and became wary until recognition hit. Jon let in Daniel, incredibly young.

No wonder Jon had called from the plane. This was a completely unexpected development. Hammond reached out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“General Hammond, Neil Hanson.”

He’d get this story straight from the source, after ‘Neil’ was safely under SGC auspices. “Handy with languages?”

Jon answered. “Sure, plenty of them. Architect, too. Good with blueprints.”

Hammond looked at Neil, while planning how to get him to and in the SGC before NID and the rest of the soup got wind of him. “Have a seat.”

“I’m fluent in twenty-five languages.” Neil looked over at Jon, who was coughing in a fairly unconvincing way. “Passable in a number more.” He was leaving out the ancient and off-world ones for now. He wondered just what they’d found in the past eleven years.

“I think we have a job for you. Architect?”

“Masters.” Jon thought what this was going to mean for them. Of course it couldn’t be as simple as getting back in harness. He had little idea of what was going on out there. The salt flats he could r&r at least occassionally. Alpha site squadron was deployment.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack looked at his today roster, puzzled by the 0800 item. He looked at his watch. 0755. No time to ask Walter about it. He got up from his desk buttoning his sweater. He’d deal with his 0800 and then head to the Gateroom to welcome back SG-11 and SG-9. Oh, and he supposed SG-3 and SG-5. He walked down the hall.

“Sir?” Why hadn’t his schedule said Hammond was coming? His 0800 now made sense. He made his frown-smile. “It just comes out. George, who’s that?” The young man clearly wasn’t military with his long, nearly to his collar, hair. His stance was odd, and Jack shifted his. The man turned.

Jack reminded himself Daniel was off-world with SG-11. Whoever this was-- Young. And built in a way Daniel never had been. He’d bulked up like a boxer. This spoke of time, a luxury he and Teal’c didn’t have when developing Daniel. “Where’s mini-me?”

Hammond chuckled. “Lt. Jon O’Neill is at processing in Utah. Neil Hanson here is a new recruit for the Linguistics department.

“Neil?” He really was a bastard. “Welcome to the SGC. Things have changed quite a bit, better show you around. Let’s start with the Gateroom.” He looked at Hammond. “Coming, Sir?”

“Can’t say no.”

Jack went for the next question. “You started reprocessing him?” There was no way Jon had done a watertight job. He smiled at Neil, acknowledging that he knew he was talking like he wasn’t there.

“Yes. Neil, I’ve got everything ready, just need to know what surname to put on the papers.”

Jack saw Neil chewing the inside of his lip at that. “So, tell us about yourself.”

“I thought we could, all get together and go through it one time.”

“Barbeque!” He looked at Hammond, getting sad eyes and a shake. Damn, he hadn’t been told. They hadn’t notified ‘Jon’ of Janet’s death, and he wouldn’t have been checking the obituaries. Clean break. Jack noticed the hall was strangely underpopulated. There were personel, but not the old hands.

Jack stood on the staircase as the Gate lit up, moving aside so Neil and Hammond could follow up. Whoosh! He glanced at Neil’s reflection, seeing the tearing as one life pulled against another. SG-5 and SG-9 came through. Jack stepped to his welcoming spot, the microphone boom gone. “See you’re in one piece. Infirmary, showers, debrief 1000. Anything you’ve just got to share?”

“No, Sir.” SG-5’s Colonel looked to SG-9.

SG-9 looked at SG-5 and then up to the Controlroom. “Can wait until Doctor Jackson’s back.” She glanced back at SG-5. Right answer.

“Off with you then.”

“We’ve got an incoming IDC. SG-11 and -3.”

“Open the iris.” It was a forcefield these days, ran off the incoming signal in a way Sam could explain to drive you to tears. It was cool! Whoosh! Never got old. Daniel walked down the ramp, handsome in his suit.

“Hair.”

Jack glanced at Neil, then back at Daniel. “Yeah, he keeps it sheared.” Jack had gotten used to it, since it was just long enough to be soft if he ruffled it up. He quirked his mouth slightly. Shortly all of SG-11 and SG-3 were through and the Gate shut down. “Checked out at Beta?” Jack nodded at SG-3’s affirmative. “Debrief at 1130. Dismissed.” He waited until Daniel was nearly at the door. “Doctor Jackson, word with you.”

Daniel flashed a dangerous look and then shuttered it, changing direction for the Controlroom. Jack intercepted him at the first bend, leading him into the nearest office, scattering the woman who had been working there. “Jack.”

“We’ve got visitors.” He stepped out of the way to reveal Hammond. Who stepped out of the way to show Neil.

Daniel sat down. “Where’s” he looked towards Jack “his clone?”

Hammond cleared his throat. “I’ll get Colonel Carter and Teal’c.”

Jack looked at Daniel and then Neil. “I’m missing something here, aren’t I?” Daniel wasn’t nearly as surprised as he should be. Stunned but not shocked. “You knew.”

“I asked.” Daniel figured the truth was the best offense. He turned to directly face the subject of discussion. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Neil looked back and forth between them, and cracked up after a few moments. He calmed shortly. “I’d started over, but the SGC wants Jon.”

Jack watched the interplay between the two men. There was so much passing between them without speaking, like two chessmasters anticipating each others countermoves. He busied himself considering who knew what and why would he care items.

“Daniels!” Sam shrugged after her outburst. She addressed the younger one. “Hi.” She was surprised when she got a quick hug, but squeezed him back firmly, stroking his hair a bit. She let him step back. “What’s going on? Sam looked between them, then Jack and Hammond.

“You got married.” Neil looked at her ring, then at her face.

Sam smiled. She thought a moment, “did the Asgard clone you?”

“We don’t really know.” He supposed at some point they should talk to Thor. “Probably.” He glanced at Daniel. “Five years ago I started over. According to Jon, your Daniel and I diverged eleven years ago.” Neil pinched the bridge of his nose. After a few moments he looked up at Sam and Teal’c. “I’ve missed you.” He wanted his life back, the one he’d started building with Jon.

Sam glanced at Daniel and then Teal’c as the younger Daniel wrapped his arms around himself. Jon had to be Jack’s clone. That had happened seven years ago. Her eyes went a bit bright and wide. She looked between Daniel and Neil, sneaking a few glances at Jack.

“Any way,” Jack decided this wasn’t going well and Neil could do with time to regroup, “we’re having a grill out at our place. Bring the kids. George, you too.”

Hammond sighed. “I’ll have to take a raincheck on that steak.” He looked to Neil, “Son, once you decide, tell him and I’ll complete the paperwork.” He shook Neil’s hand, patting him on the shoulder, gave Sam a hug and Teal’c a forearm grip.

“We’ll see you off part of the way.” Teal’c touched Sam’s elbow and inclined his head.

“Oh, yes!” Sam followed with less than full decorum.

Jack looked between Daniel and Neil. “I’ve not had any MREs lately. Daniel, your office, my office, we should leave this office to whoever’s office it is.” He was surprised when both of them let him herd them out.

Neil looked Jack over in his sweater, button down and slacks. “You’re not in uniform.” It was very close, but there were no eagles or USes.

“Retired. Third time’s the charm.”

“Retired?” It didn’t make sense.

“From the Air Force.” He watched Neil form and discard questions like paper balls. “Someone decided a civilian second in command was a good idea.” Neil staring like that was disconcerting.

“I sort of assumed you were in charge.”

“In his own mind.” Daniel led the way into his office. “They tried civilian command. It didn’t work.” He watched, Neil, recognize and investigate the contents of his office. “What decision?” He’d assumed his clone would be joining his department. “Where is Jon?”

“Utah.” Jack and Neil looked at each other at their inadvertent unison. Jack looked at Neil and answered Daniel. “They can’t just bring him here, SGC is a selective assignment. It’d look like nepotism.” He thought about that. “What’s the neologism for that, preferential treatment of a clone.” As if.

“Hammond’s creating me a complete identity. Who knows, maybe I can get a passport one day.” Funny how since meeting Catherine he’d left the planet scores of times, the universe once and even traveled back in time, but hadn’t even visited other countries on his own world. Border security was too tight even to risk Canada. “Probably be weird with two Jacksons and two O’Neills.”

“It’s the SGC. We do more impossible things by 0900--”

“Just ask Alice.” Jack looked at the clock. “Um, I’ve got a debrief at 1000.” He figured he should let them talk without the third wheel. Daniels got along, they didn’t need a chaperone. He edged towards the door and left before he could be stopped.

“Civillian?” Neil couldn’t get his mind around it. Jon, sure, but it had been thrust on him. And now ripped from him. He applied the heels of his hands to his eyes.

Daniel found a clean mug and pour his clone a coffee. He passed it. “Eleven years?” He had just returned from intensive negotiations.

“I woke up, thought it was 1999.”

“Sha’re.” They were both quiet, remembering their wife.

Neil looked at Daniel. “Jon never explained Loki very well.”

“The Asgard after Jack Gated to their galaxy with the knowledge of the Ancients in his head put a ‘do not copy’ on his DNA-- Loki’s clones were never meant to be durable, but the tag kept Jon from being indistinguishable. He was supposed to be a placeholder; a teenager is rather obvious with a Colonel’s ID. Once Jon subdued Loki, Jack asked Thor to save his clone.”

Neil was surprised. “He’s grown since Altair.”

“They’re dead.”

“Dead?” He thought they’d be going and going.

“They’d started running missions and they got to a planet we’d visited. Another Gou’ld stepped into the power vaccuum we’d left. It didn’t end well. Jack saw his duplicate bleed out.” He watched Neil consider that.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil over the course of the day was shown around the whole facility. There were so many new people, but some of the old hands were still around. They were curious, but there weren’t any clone-pointed questions. He’d have to infiltrate the betting pool to find out what they really thought.

“Where’s Janet?” Teal’c was being his guide. He supposed with the off-world sites she might not be at SGC. Cassie would be, grown. That thought made him feel old.

Teal’c would have words with Jack O’Neill. “She fell in battle preparing a patient for transport seven years ago.” Neil looked at him with such sadness. Very strong words would be had.

Jack considered turning on his heels, but he knew the security tape would fall into somebody’s hands. He stepped forward. “It was later that year. SG-1 were investigating a ruin and... it was an ambush. We knew it was an ambush and she went anyway.” He steeled himself as Neil considered it all. “Staff blast. She was dead before the medics could get to her.” She’d been dead before Daniel had screamed for them. He could have lost him too.

“I will see you at seven.” Teal’c walked away, considering his lessons for O’Neill.

Jack thought there was something ominous about the way Teal’c said that. “So you’ve seen the sights, what do you think?”

“What’s going to happen to Jon?” He knew Jon wasn’t telling him everything, was keeping him in the dark. It’d piss him off more if he didn’t know it was Jon’s way of dealing with his own fears. That it wasn’t about trust, just an old dog caught up in licking his wounds in private.

“I’ve got an office.” Jack headed for it, betting that Jon was trying to keep Neil in the dark. He wasn’t going to aid and abet his clone. But he did want to keep the fireworks contained. Jack kept up a stream of inanities and acknowledged people as they passed in the hall. He pointed to a chair and poured Neil a cup of coffee, before hitching himself up on the edge of his desk.

“We’ve learned a lot more about the Ancients, about the Ascended. Actually, the one’s what remains of the other. The Gates aren’t the only toys they left behind. Some of them need keys, genetic keys. Jon’s got them, got them in spades.”

“Because you do. That’s why the repository worked.”

“Yeah, the Ancients left behind their calling cards.” They should have considered that when they found Ayaina, she’d even half looked like Jonas. They’d gotten sick because Tau’ri were just bastard Ancients. “Thing is, the real genes work best. That’s got to be why they reactivated Jon.” They were doing amazing things with spacecraft.

“You know something you don’t want to tell me.” Neil could read Jack like a tablet.

“Not know.” Jack thought how to--just because he wasn’t abetting his clone didn’t mean he wanted to upset Neil. Neil’s expression made it clear he had no wiggle-room. “I doubt they’ll leave him Earthside. We’ve got squadrons out there, and not just any pilot can handle them.” It took everything to stay behind his desk, while Neil tried not to react. He leaned towards his phone. He knew Jon knew what was going on. He’d whup his clone.

He was recalled from his thoughts on how to compensate fighting a refitted self by his door opening. He sat a bit straighter as he saw who was there.

“Doctor Jackson, we’ve always said one wasn’t enough. Welcome back to the SGC.”

“Neil, General Hank Landry.” He watched the two men shake hands. He wished George was still on base, but he was sure Hammond had overestimated mini-me and thought Neil had been told. He considered what he could do to fix this. Jack wasn’t convinced Jon’s absence wouldn’t result in him sleeping on the couch. He dragged his mind away from the other options, realizing he’d missed the various pleasantries exchanged.

“We’re having a barbeque.”

“I’ll have to take a raincheck. SG-8’s overdue. Again.”

Jack considered that. Either it was nothing to worry about, or part of the universe was coming to an end. Never could tell with SG-8. Until he knew for sure, he better grill like there was no tomorrow. He was going to need to go to the store. He reached over to slide his day planner towards him.

“I’ll have Walter rearrange things.”

Jack looked up at Hank.

“Get the fatted calf. You’re only a call away.”

Jack looked at Hank sharply, the effect lost on Landry’s back. He looked at Neil. “Okay, we better go pry Daniel away from his translations.” Jack swung around his desk and took the lead. He really needed some alone time, but Jack didn’t expect he’d get it. Shopping with two Daniels, one half the age of the other, wasn’t on his top ten or top one hundred things to do. Unless it was ‘things guarenteed to make Jack sleep on the couch for life. Better than shopping with Neil alone.

Jack looked at the stone plinth, still holding onto the door. “That’s, big.” He wondered just how they’d gotten it from wherever and why it was in Daniel’s office. It must have come through the door on edge. They’d moved everything towards the walls.

“It’s a Rosetta.” Neil approached the hemisphere with variously sized circles sliced across it. He walked all the way around. “It has all of the scripts from Heliopolis.”

Jack saw this as his opportunity. “I’ll leave you two to work on this. Remember, seven pm.”

“1900. Got it.” Daniel didn’t look up from his work.

Jack was almost jealous. Unlike the artifact, he had a pulse; eventually Daniel’s attention would return to him. He headed out of the Mountain.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daniel glanced at Neil at the stoplight. “Jon’s not coming to the SGC and he didn’t tell you.”

“Tactical retreat.” He looked at his watch. “We’re late.” They’d gotten caught up translating.

“Are you sorry?” Daniel kept with the flow of traffic.

“That Jon’s been recalled?” He nodded slightly. “Or that you ‘sent’ me?” He shook his head. He looked at his other self. “What took you so long?”

“I asked Thor after he’d repaired Jon.” He wondered how Thor had managed, cloning him as-- remembering as he’d been years earlier. “Did he--”

“You’ had remembered.” Jack must have found out after Jon had left. “Just the highlights. He didn’t mention you until it hit the fan.”

Daniel stopped the car abruptly. It made perfect sense. The same sense Jack leaving him to remember on his own had made. Fortunately Jack had after Loki decided not to wait any more. He smiled.

Neil looked away, mad at Jon, missing him. The rest of the drive barely registered. He got out of the car once he realized they’d arrived. Two children ran towards the driver’s side, intercepting Daniel. Neil smiled; Jack had told Sam to bring the kids. He judged the boy the older.

Daniel followed the kids’ attention which was now focused on Neil. “How’s Pop doing?”

The boy answered. “Carter, I can’t believe you left without checking his office!”

Neil laughed, that was so Jack, Jon, Jack and the kid delivered it perfectly. Neil felt himself being watched, and he looked around, then down. He knelt to her eye level. She continued to look him over. He thought she might be four.

Jack looked onto the driveway, Rory in Daniel’s arms and Kitty staring at Neil crouched down. He slipped further back, not wanting to intrude. The kids would have to figure this out and they’d go with it.

“Daddy.”

Neil followed her line of sight to Daniel and the boy. “Daniel?”

Daniel put Rory down. “Take your sister back, tell Teal’c we’re here.” He watched them hustle back. “Jack, come on out.” He waited for Jack to extricate himself. “That’s Riordan and Katherine.”

“Food’s ready.” Jack smiled, hoping if they couldn’t take this into the house they could at least make the backyard.

“She called you Daddy.” Neil breathed deeply. He’d regretted wanting to wait; he’d thought Shar’e and he would have time, that it would happen despite them. What was going on? He waved as everyone on the deck looked their way. Teal’c, Sam, two other little girls, Riordan and Katherine. He turned, wanting to know what was going on.

“They’re ours.” Jack knew a strong offense was the only way to deal with Jacksons. He looked over at the deck, then at Daniel. “Little complicated, aliens. Don’t even have a scar.”

Neil and Daniel both looked at Jack like he was out of his mind.

Jack thought about frosty flagpoles to take down the swelling. He loved Daniel when he thought he was addled. Two were too much and excess, success; he was on dangerous ground. “You tell him.” Jack retreated to the grill.

Daniel mouthed the word ‘coward’. He pointed to the S-curved bench. “First off, he does have a scar.” He tapped low on his stomach. “I’ve got the same one.” He sat at the far end.

Neil sat down.

Daniel looked over at the deck. At his family. “We didn’t know about Rory at first.” He smiled when Neil looked up. “I went back for Katherine.” He rubbed his stomach. He looked at his clone. “We’ve got pictures.”

“Sam’s married.” He couldn’t deal with this yet, with what Daniel was saying.

“Teal’c.” Daniel watched Neil’s face as confoundment became 20/20 hindsight.

“When did that happen?”

Daniel realized they’d never asked. “They told us while Jack was still confined to base. Doctor Winchester wasn’t taking any chances.” He smiled impishly. “Bretanya is about nine months younger than Rory.” He looked over at her, cinnamon hair pulled back in pigtails. “Claire’s her little sister.” Daniel got up, knowing Neil wouldn’t ‘get’ this all at once.

Neil followed, touched, stunned, and intensely protective. And hungry.

Jack put a plate down at a free spot, before sliding between the kids. He looked at Daniel, questioningly. He looked down as Kitty tapped on him.

“Daddy should grow his hair out.”

Jack glanced at Daniel, wondering if he’d take the hint. There were Marines with more hair, and not just the women. Not that he could say anything, now. He looked around the table, Sam hiding behind her burger. “The rest of the ladies agree?” So, sue him.

“Um.” Sam looked at Neil. She would have made a fool of herself had Daniel looked like this in the begining. Sex on a shingle. He coudn’t possibly have looked this way the first mission. She took another bite of her food. A big one. Comprehensive chewing.

Teal’c smirked, glancing at Sam.

Bretanya and Claire considered the question carefully, then conferred. They looked Daniel in the eye. “Indeed.”

Jack sprayed beer out, swallowing and coughing most of his draw. He leaned into Daniel once he caught his breath, his mate’s hand still on his back. “They’ve been practicing.”

Sam smiled sheepishly, Teal’c with pride.

“Face it, you’ve created a monster.” Daniel fingered Jack’s hair and looked at Neil before turning to the girls. “You know it won’t look like that.” He’d started going grey, slowly but greying.

“We’ll let you know.” Katherine bit into her burger again.

“She takes after you.” He let Jack go and looked down at Rory. “We didn’t crush you?”

“Crinkled.” He smiled as he said it. “Is Neil our uncle, like Uncle Mac?” Rory didn’t wait for an answer. “Bet you know cool stuff, too.”

“Uncle Mac?” Neil looked around at the other adults. He focused on Sam. She appeared to have something she wished to add. “Sam?”

She looked towards Jack. Neil looked at Jack also.

“Second cousin. Twice.” Jack intercepted the next question. “Didn’t know until he showed up in the Springs.”

Neil thought that through. “A little less than seven years ago?”

Jack nodded.

Katherine looked from Pop to Daddy, and then to Neil. She looked between Daddy and Neil. She took a bite and kept looking.

Daniel looked at Jack. Then he looked at their daughter. He had the feeling that her being only four wouldn’t help them any.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re sure?” Neil was happy to get out of base quarters, but he’d figured he’d go apartment hunting. Daniel offering him the keys to a house...

“If you don’t mind me stopping by to read.” It really had become a library and museum over the years. Occasional love nest. Staying in and sending the kids to the Carters’ had replaced that. “It’s past time someone lived there.”

Neil hugged himself, figuring him moving in wouldn’t count. He’d finally gotten e-mail from Jon. Breezy letter, well composed for any interceptors. It’d be months before Jon got any leave.

“He misses you.” Daniel held his ground as Neil looked at him. Half the mother hen things Jack had ever annoyed him with made sense now. Two-thirds. He couldn’t blame the Air Force for wanting their pilot back. “What’s he like?” Seven years had to have changed him. He shivered at the idea of purposely going back to high school.

Neil smiled. “Aggravating. Beguiling. He’d taken up pottery.” Neil thought back to the time Jon ‘taught’ him to throw a pot. Oh, he’d have fun the next email.

Daniel smiled at that. There wasn’t a lot of time between raising kids and saving the world. Jack would occasionally lock himself in the shed and throw some pottery.

Neil picked up his backpack and satchel. Living off base would require him getting a car. “Guess I can afford high insurance rates.”

“Yeah.” Daniel thought for a moment. “Take Sam with you though.”

Neil looked at Daniel, realizing he’d moved onto car shopping.

“After thirty minutes of her asking detailed questions about every system under the hood and chasis, they’ll give you the best offer they can to get you out of the dealership.”

Neil thought about the times Jack had given him a lift to buy a car. “Check, take Sam.” The ride up to the surface was quiet. “Kitty?”

“You know Jack.” He should have considered it; too bad he couldn’t say he was still half-sedated. Most every name was subject to nicknames before a master. “Neil?”

Neil turned, then realized it was a question not an attention request. “Jon must have took it as a sign.”

Daniel nodded. “Guess ‘Dr. Jackson’ won’t be ambiguous.” He had his information sources.

“I’m not a doctor. You don’t mind?” He’d been given a stack to sign so they could finish making him ‘real’, and it had just happened.

Daniel looked at Neil. He chuckled at the younger man’s expression, then put two and two together. So much for his sources. “Hammond can get a board together and fix that.” He knew how much work they’d pile on. Jack had once shown him what a plumber that worked his hours would make.

“I’ve kept my paygrade.” He let the confusion play out on his other self’s face. “Accounting knows.” Actually, they thought they’d docked him a few, but Daniel had bumped up... Neil would take the amusement he could get. He looked at Daniel’s car when they reached it.

“I do end up driving more than four children fairly often.” He unlocked the doors and slid behind the wheel. “It plugs in.” He pulled out once Neil was belted in.

“So Jack insisted.”

Daniel nodded slightly. It was built like a tank, and about the only feature it didn’t have was Asgard beam-out technology. That he knew. Thinking about it, he should ask Thor.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil looked up at Blair. He’d sent the offer letter, the very opaque and uninformative offer letter, but woke up in Jon’s bed some time ‘before’ it’d been accepted. SG-8 seemed to be the hot team these days, SG-1 having been ‘retired’ like a hockey jersey. “You want me to go?”

“Are you serious? Of course I want you to go. I’ve worked some digs, earthside digs, but it was never my focus. This is the best bead we’ve gotten on the Furlings yet.”

Neil really wanted to. For the dig of course, but also to see how SG-8 worked, to go through the Gate. He had to ask. “Wouldn’t you prefer Daniel?” While it didn’t happen all the time, people that knew who he was would forget he didn’t know everything his other self did.

“First, never happen. Second, there’s more than enough to go around even if we cloned both of you. Third, you are younger. Fourth- So there’s no fourth. Come on. It’ll be fun. It’s warm but not too hot, the local food’s been approved.”

Off world and no MREs. He smiled. “Sign me up.”

“Gateroom 1800.” Blair strode out of Neil’s office.

Neil looked at his clock. It was already 5:30! He saved and shut down and ran for the ready room. He looked at a pack sitting on the floor, away from Colonels Mitchell and Ellison, and not by Blair’s locker.

“Decided to join us?” Cameron had been wanting to get to know Neil. Not that Dr. Jackson was unapproachable. Just that O’Neill got crotchety when anyone new, anyone that might request Dr. Jackson for a mission, got near him. Neil might cause the same reaction. He admitted they did get into a lot of trouble. They also got out of it. “Bags are packed, you’re dressed” he nodded at the holster on the bench “mostly. I know you’re recertified on that.”

Neil strapped on the 9mm. He’d been surprised when Daniel had taken him to the range. Jack had been giving him a wide berth, which he mostly appreciated. Sam was just even more of a big sister, and she’d stopped being embarrassed when she flubbed during reminiscing. Reports only told him so much, about what Jon, as Jack, had experienced ‘after’. “We taking Marines?”

“We always take Marines.” Blair stepped inside and made his final preparations. It wasn’t totally true, there were cases when two teams rose too much suspiscion. “Jack asks if we’re forgetting something if we don’t.”

Neil wondered if Jack had actually gotten around to saying ‘kittens, where’s your mittens?’ 

Cameron snapped on his pack. “Showtime.”

Neil clicked home the last connector. “You planned this.”

Blair smiled and headed out behind Jim.

“Where’s Gopal?”

“Gateroom. The women captured a ready room a few years back.”

Neil wondered if Col. Mitchell was being serious.

“Don’t look up to the Control Room.” Blair stepped into the Gateroom.

With an instruction like that it was hard not to look up to the Control Room, but he resisted the pull. Instead he watched the Gate dial, the whoosh jet out and the puddle. He followed SG-8 up the ramp, Lt. Gopal beside him as he went through the Gate.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He did what?!” Jack couldn’t believe this. He’d been in the Control Room when SG-8 went through. Mostly because he was waiting for the report of the Russian team. The Russian team he didn’t completely dislike. Not that the two he did completely dislike weren’t fine representatives and capable soliders. If they weren’t, he could have gotten rid of them before they’d had all their shots.

Neil had gone through the Gate, and the first he knew about it, despite having been in the Control Room, was when he’d called down to make sure Neil had had lunch. So 2000 was a little late to check on that, but it was before the commisary went to cold sandwiches and cereal.

“When’s SG-8’s first check in?”

“2200.”

Damn. “Call me if anything weird, the hint of anything weird, happens.” Jack stalked out of his office. Daniel at least was home. He better be home. Jack rode up the elevator, got out and switched. As soon as he was up and heading to his car he slipped his phone into his ear. “Home.” He heard their identifier immediately, and after what would have been a few rings he got a ‘Pop!’

“Kitty, why aren’t you asleep?”

“I was?”

He heard Daniel instruct her to rebrush her teeth. “She got up and the kitchen was ‘on the way back’. Are you--”

“On my way.” He pressed the button to unlock and start the car’s systems, then opened the door and slid in. He heard Daniel relax. “Neil left with Mitchell and company.” He heard Daniel get his drooling archaeologist interest up. He just knew he was thinking the planet designation. Of course Daniel knew where SG-8 was headed. He’d wanted to go. Daniel didn’t need to say anything for Jack to know that. “Rory’s asleep?”

“Reading.”

“It’s past his bedtime.” Which was how Daniel knew their son was reading. “He’s got the flashlight?” It put out enough light to read by, and shut itself off. Jack had it set to not turn back on until an hour had passed. Trying earlier just made it take longer.

“And he ate his carrots.” Daniel paused. “You’ve eaten?”

“I could eat.” He chuckled when the line cut off. He’d reheat the leftovers after his welcome home.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week later Jack O’Neill stood in the Gate Room in blue BDUs, ball cap jammed on. The Gate came to life, the IDC for SG-8 and SG-5 came through and the forcefield dimmed to reveal the puddle. He looked askance at the flowers both teams were wearing.

“Got lei-ed?” Sandburg snorted, which was about all it deserved, though he didn’t get that much from anyone else. If you didn’t count the embarrassed smile Neil had. You couldn’t not count it. It was Daniel’s you’re-my-idiot smile. Jack pulled his eyes away from Neil’s mouth and looked over the teams.

“Mitchell, learn from this. Everyone coming through on their own power and intact is the right way.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

“Good. Debrief at 1100, Hank and the Joint Chiefs willing.” He followed as they left and tapped Mitchell on the shoulder, guiding him aside so they’d not be overheard. “Don’t do that again.” He looked the younger man in the eye. Mitchell looked down.

“Yes, sir.”

Jack stalked away. He didn’t need mini-me going AWOL and storming the Mountain just because someone thought taking Neil off world was fun. It wasn’t totally fair, but it was partly accurate. Mitchell had made an astounding recovery after his horrible crash during the defense of the Antarctic base. McQueen had dangled the carrot of joining SG-8 and it had worked. She’d confided he was a handful, but “there’s no more stubborn bastard I’d rather have along.” It was quite the recommendation considering she had Sandburg and Ellison.

Sandburg wouldn’t be nearly so easy. Few things phased him after Ellison. Blair died nearly as often as Daniel once had, including once before he even knew of the SGC. Jack knew Blair had been the strategist.

Neil however was the real problem. Jack made the hell sure he wasn’t alone with the man. Temptation, evil. Not that Neil was evil, just the thoughts he inspired in O’Neill. Neil was Daniel with fewer of Jack’s screw-ups. Of course he hit all of Jack’s buttons. So did Daniel.

Not only couldn’t he have this ‘talking to’ in front of witnesses, he never was able to say no to Daniel. Offensively passive aggressive, but not actually ‘no’. It wasn’t like Hank had ordered Neil to not go off world. Jack remembered how long that had lasted for Daniel.

Until the world needed him. It had been hard watching him go through the Gate the first time, unable to watch his six as he went into harm’s way. And every time since, whether danger was expected or just anticipated. It was Daniel after all, trouble sought him.

He was going to have to talk to Neil.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neil opened the door, surprised to see Jack. “Come in.” Neil wandered back to the bedroom to throw more clothes on. “In the area? Needed to pick up something?”

Jack looked around the house, noticing changes since the last time he’d been there. Of course, he paid more attention to Daniel than his stuff. He was observant though. He waited until Neil was back in the room. “Don’t.”

Neil waited. Jack didn’t follow up with a verb. “So, you’re here to talk.” That always did make Jack quiet.

“Hear from Jon?” It was weird calling mini-me by name. His own name, but not. Neil wasn’t biting. “You missed it.”

Going off world was exciting. “It’s not the same.” And it wouldn’t be the same, because Jon would be piloting spacefighters... “Daniel’s lucky.”

“Like an Irishman.” Jack should know, he’d had long stretches where if he hadn’t had bad luck he wouldn’t have had any luck at all. “And no, it’s not. These aren’t the mad days of rushing in, leaping without looking-- You’re not going to stop these cliches?”

“Was wondering when you’d run out.” Neil smiled. “Ready?”

Jack grimaced, wondering how he’d been brought back to the beginning. “Just pick your battles. We’ve got enough of them.”

Neil smiled at that. “Will you let me go? If there are missions I should go on, will you let me leave?”

Jack swallowed. He hated when he was asked reasonable questions, ones that only left him one unlikable, correct, answer. He couldn’t say it, but the bitter yes made it to his face.

Neil nodded. “So, how are the kids?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Daniel met Jack at the door, two beers in one hand and a churchkey in the other. “Have a good talk?” He handed one of the bottles to Jack, popping its top and then his own’s. He headed into the living room.

“He called you.” Jack couldn’t get how Daniels dealt with each other, friendly and separate, though Daniel was nice to people much less pleasant than himself. Than Daniel. Jack took a drink rather than give himself a headache.

“You got home earlier than he’d predicted.” Daniel smiled, amused by how disturbed Jack was at him getting along with his clone. While it was a little odd, compared to everything else?

“Guess I’m not living down to expectations.” He closed the distance between them and kissed Daniel deeply. He arched an eyebrow when he pulled back slowly.

“They’re with Mrs. Kline. Beetles.”

“Ah.” He followed it up with another kiss, this one turning nasty. The need for air was pesky.

“Talk first. Fast.” Daniel held Jack away with one hand.

“It went okay.” Daniel just looked at him. “I got him to agree not to sneak offworld like that again.” Jack regarded Daniel’s smile. “What?”

“Took you long enough.” The way Jack avoided Neil when there wasn’t a chaperone was-- “I do trust you, you know.” He reached out for Jack with both hands at the self-depreciating shrug. “You know he’ll do as he pleases if you don’t get his agreement not to.”

Jack looked at Daniel lopsidedly. “I think I understood that. Must be love.” Daniel’s smile inspired Jack’s own and Jack crowded Daniel to their bedroom. They locked the door once inside, then stripped. Themselves, each other, a well-practiced choreography ending in bed. Jack on the bottom reached for the nightstand drawer.

“Good idea.” Daniel latched into a kiss while opening the lube he’d retrieved. He quickly had Jack in hand, then pressed him to his ass. Jack pressed into him slowly, pulling him down full-length. They moved against each other, stroking, kissing. Jack gripped Daniel by his hip and neck as he thrust up into his lover. He moaned as Daniel slid an inquisitive finger into him and teased his prostate. Jack grasped Daniel’s cock, squeezing back Daniel’s completion at the base as he pumped him full.

Daniel gathered his breath, rubbing Jack’s chest between them. Daniel braced himself and pulled off Jack, already missing being filled, to push into Jack. He didn’t last long, lacked all finese, just nailed Jack and came. He slid into a nap, strokes against his ears guiding him into rest.

He roused, not so much later. “Show’r?”

“Yeah.” Jack encouraged Daniel out of bed, following him into the en suite. They bathed quickly, knowing they had to resume their roles as parents.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Lt. Jonathan O’Neill stood at the door of his former home, in his dress blues. He should be stalking Neil, racing submarines with him. He rang the bell. Being O’Neill he had to do this first. He heard a wruff and some high pitched voices. He wasn’t surprised when the door was pulled open fast.

“You.” Jack was old, scratching white chesthair, wearing loungepants. “Get in here.” Jack stepped back, then closed the door.

Jon was looking at the dog the children were playing with. “Are there legs under there?” Only the wagging tail, more a side to side swish, let him distinguish front from back. The dog was positively strange, more levitated mop than canine.

“Babysitting?” The kids looked up at him from the dog, quickly getting up and nearly swarming him. Jon was speechless. Not babysitting.

“Nope. He’s all ours, has been since he was a puppy.” Jack looked between his clone and his kids. “Take Sparky to the kitchen.” Once they were on their way, Jack regarded ‘Jon’. “Let me guess, you flew commercial.”

Jon didn’t bothering answering the jibe. He might still look young in uniform, but he wasn’t treated as badly. “What about Daniel?”

“Communing with the coffeemaker. Suspect the same for Neil.” Though, he might still be on base... “I went to his place after I dropped you off.” Jack only later found out Daniel had gotten his memories back before he’d swept over him.

Jon seethed, both at the smug lewdity, and at the practiced obtuseness. “The kids.”

“Rory and Katherine. Take after Daniel fortunately.” He watched his clone mull that over, and the bloom of confusion as the fifty-cent piece dropped. “Why are you here?”

Jon was really wondering that himself. Staggered by Jack and Daniel’s kids, so clearly Jack and Daniel’s-- “What about Charlie?”

Jack snapped at the whiplash change Jon made. He wasn’t going there, not with his clone. “Go find Neil.” He herded Jon out of their house, his and Daniel’s and their kids. He was a little sorry his clone didn’t put up a fight.

“Pop.” Rory peeked out of the kitchen. “Pancakes?”

Jack shook off his anger before turning to answer. “Coming.” He was a lucky bastard.

 

The End


End file.
